


Reliance, Resolve

by Gnine



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: And By That I Mean, Because I'm still me, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, You Decide, and veered a lot more towards pre-slash, brotherhood era, by the end, hurt!prompto, it started off more gen, mostly...but a little physical as well, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnine/pseuds/Gnine
Summary: "Where are you?"Noct. Voice controlled, each word precise and even. In other words, pissed off to the point of seething. Prompto had obviously screwed up. Again. Seemed about all he was capable of doing lately when it came to Noct—and just about everything else.-------Prompto's self-reliant streak kicks into overdrive, sending his life into a tailspin.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 139
Kudos: 639





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Those of you following my stuff may notice this is not, in fact, the next chapter of Dogged Steps. I had that mostly written when this fic trundled along. I politely told it to wait its turn and it not-so-politely declined. Adamantly. So…here we are.
> 
> I'm posting this in three parts mainly to give myself and my beta breathing room, but the entire thing is already written (over 13k in less than a week…oops? IDEK, it just happened). So expect the other two parts over the next few days.

"Prompto Argentum? If I may have a moment of your time…"

The man standing before him—prim, proper, stylish glasses framing an unfairly handsome face—looked vaguely familiar, but it still took him a moment to make the connection to Noct.

Except Noct hadn't been in school today, some royal-related thing. Prompto glanced around, but the immediate area continued to be a sadly Noct-free zone. Instead this mostly-a-stranger's laser focus was affixed straight on Prompto.

Not unsettling. At. All.

Prompto managed _not_ to blurt, "Whatever it was, I didn't do it!" but only just. Choked out a more appropriate, "Absolutely. What do you need?" before gesturing them out of the path of foot traffic pouring from the school.

"As an advisor to the Prince, part of my job is to identify and eliminate any potential problems before they impact his highness."

Prompto gulped. _Potential Problem_ wasn’t the _worst_ thing he'd been called, but left definite room for improvement. He'd been bracing for a confrontation of this nature since the moment he'd skipped up to Noct last week and had the audacity to thwap his royal highness on his royal shoulder in introduction. Though in his overactive imagination, whoever came calling had been beefier and more heavily armed and had brought company.

"It seems likely the prince and you will be spending greater amounts of time together in the future."

 _Really_? Things were looking up.

"Before that can happen, I believe it prudent we…manage expectations."

Aaaand there it was, reality pulling him back to level ground with a thump.

"S-sounds _go-od_ …"

Smooth, cool. His voice always changed octaves three times in two words.

"Concerning favors, of financial, influential or other nature, it would behoove you moving forward to not expect or pursue them."

"Um…?" Before they 'managed expectations', maybe they could sync up communication practices.

Ignis sighed, adjusted his glasses, his pointed stare becoming a full-on glare. "To put it clearly: if your motivation for seeking out the Prince's company is because you want money, political sway, or other such benefits as a result of favoritism, I suggest you…look elsewhere."

Oh. Of course that's what they thought about him.

Dragging in as calming a breath as he could summon, Prompto met Ignis's direct gaze with a confidence he for once wasn't entirely feigning. "I promise. I'm not trying to get stuff from Noc—err Prince Noctis." Prompto reached for the smile he'd been practicing, that was coming with less conscious effort every day. "I won't come begging him for anything."

******

The signs had no doubt started earlier, but the first inkling Prompto had of the problem began at lunch. Noct found him on the roof in their usual spot.

"Oh, so you _are_ here today?"

Prompto glanced up from where he was aligning the perfect shot at Noct's petulant greeting. In the two years they'd been friends, Prompto had come to think of it as Noct's 'morning tone'. Usually he'd lost it by fourth period; being already past noon, this was late for him.

"Uh…yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

"You never answered which of Spec's pastries I should bring this morning. Or if you’d managed to beat level 83. Or where we were meeting for lunch. Or—"

"Noooct, are you _sure_ you actually sent those? Remember last week when…huh." Prompto had abandoned his camera to fumble for his phone. Ready to get down to some epic mocking—Noct had this hilarious propensity for dozing off before actually hitting send—he frowned instead. The no-service icon was flashing where his bars should be.

Turned out to be some kind of billing glitch. He switched it temporarily over to his personal account in a matter of minutes. Made a mental note to talk to his parents whenever they were next home, confident they'd reimburse him.

A week later, finding not one but two Final Notices stamped on envelopes as he was sorting the mail, he had the sinking feeling he maybe should have investigated further.

It wasn’t just the cell phone bill. It was all of them.

His parents were big fans of auto-pay, being away from home and even civilization so frequently. It had always worked…or at least insofar at as any hitch had never been big enough to enter Prompto's orbit.

Until now.

Calls and texts to his parents went unanswered—normal. He moved on to plan B with hardly a blink. The 24-7 help line for the bank proved the opposite of its name. He'd have to wait for business hours, talk to their specific branch.

His entire morning study hall the next day was spent getting exactly nowhere over the phone. At lunch he skipped out on the rest of the school day in favor of visiting in person, armed with every record and scrap of related paperwork he'd been able to scrounge up from his parents' office.

He emerged hours later to the darkening evening sky, the bank doors locked behind him, a little wiser and a lot more worried. The account was frozen due to 'suspicious activity' and a possible breach. _That_ , after a lot of hemming and hawing, they'd been willing to confirm.

 _Beyond_ that, though—no matter how many sheets he produced, or proofs of identification he presented—bupkis. He wasn't named on the account; he wasn't getting access. Period.

A quick check on his phone confirmed his parents remained incommunicado.

So…plan C.

His account remained available. His parents had deposited the normal amount—enough for food, unforeseen household expenses and several months' allowance—before they'd departed.

Prompto had been trusted to manage his personal finances from a young age. While the temptation to splurge it all away had been hard to resist when he was little, by middle school he'd established a reliable system of spending and savings to easily cover necessities, a few fun treats and even most months set a little aside to save for something special.

Two months ago, he'd finally gone for that something special in the form of the new camera he'd been eyeing for years now.

At the time he'd been secretly proud of his own patience—he'd held off buying it until he was absolutely certain he wouldn't be cutting at all into his food or emergency budget. Even if his parents' trip extended past the predicted four months—as happened more often than not—he should have been more than covered.

What he hadn't accounted for was needing to pay _every_ expense and bill—up to and including one already-missed mortgage payment—for the foreseeable future.

Prompto bit his lip, fingers fisted in his hair. Drew a deep breath. Reminded himself panicking was just one more luxury he could very much _not_ afford at the moment. Time now to prioritize and plan.

His phone pinged. _Please be Mom or Dad, please be—_ For the first time in possibly _ever_ , Prompto felt a lurch of disappointment when Noct's name flashed up.

He shook his head, focus returning to the various bills, receipts and spreadsheets covering desktops both digital and physical. Froze, hand hovering over his phone.

_Noct…_

Prompto’d had the stray thought while squirming in the hard bank chair, pleading his case before the unsympathetic accounts’ manager, that _Noct_ wouldn't get this kind of runaround.

Even now, if he asked, Noct could probably—No!

Prompto slammed the brakes on that thought before it gained any sort of momentum.

 _Could_ Noct help? Almost certainly. _Would_ he? Probably. _Should_ Prompto ask? Hells the fuck no.

Prompto felt he'd gotten to know Ignis semi-well over the last few years, but that had in no way diminished—the exact opposite, if anything—the man's intimidation factor. No way Prompto was going to risk crossing him. Or Gladio.

But…it was more than that. Long before he'd ever made that promise, Prompto had sworn a more personal vow to himself.

It may have taken Lady Lunafreya to point it out, but once he'd realized the truth of her words, Prompto'd never been able to turn back. Noct needed a _friend_ , plain and simple. _Deserved_ one. Someone to be there for him when the pressures of his station got to be too much. What he did _not_ need was a leech, just one more demanding obligation when his life was all but made of them.

Before ever approaching Noct, he'd decided: only a boon, never a burden. And for once, miraculously, it was something he wasn’t utterly failing at. No way he was changing that now. Not over something so trivial.

*****

Prompto was sleeping through lunch. Again. Third day in a row.

Noct hadn't bothered heading up to the roof first this time, beelining straight for Prompto's classroom. Throwing himself down in the closest empty desk, Noct pulled out his food.

As soon as the lid was off—Ignis's latest masterpiece wafting its delicious odors into the air——a telltale sniff heralded Prompto's return to consciousness. Noct smirked. Never failed.

"Damn, how is it possible that smells even better than yesterday’s attempt?"

Noct frowned. Right words, but the tone was…off. Flat. Noct let his gaze linger as Prompto yawned, pushed his head up from the desk before blinking slowly. He looked tired. And not the normal just-pulled-an-all-nighter-to-get-a-headstart-on-the-lastest-King's-Knight-release kind of tired.

This was more the dark circles, haggard features of endless nights of bad sleep kind of tired. Noct should know—it was a look he'd seen staring back from the mirror on and off for years now.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Wha?" Prompto paused mid-bite, the tart Noct had passed over already mostly devoured. "Yeah, s'fine. Guess I just haven't been sleeping great lately." Between the shrug and dismissive tone, it was clear Prompto wanted him to drop it.

Noct was more than happy to. He knew—even without it being gleefully pointed out, gee thanks, Gladio—that he was crap at this kind of thing. Which Prompto _got_ about him—one of the many things that made him so easy to be around.

Except because this _was_ Prompto, Noct was sure as hells making the effort regardless. "Are you sure? 'Cause, y’know…if you ever need to talk, or, well…" However dismal an effort it may be.

"Duuude." Prompto was rolling his eyes now, grinning. "Seriously, I'm good. Though…" his expression grew sly. "I keep saying, if you want to pass a royal decree to ban all testing, I can guarantee I won't be the only kid sleeping sooo much easier in a few weeks…"

"Six!" Noct swore, letting his head fall forward. Finals. In two weeks. He'd been trying his very best to avoid thinking about that subject. At all. "I've told you. Ignis has caught me every time I've tried slipping it into any legislation."

They were still bandying about various legalities of stealth proclamations when the bell sounded.

****

His phone was ringing. Prompto started up, practice exam plastered to his cheek with drool as he scrambled clumsily for it.

Shit, not again. Please, please let him not be late. Neither of his current jobs offered enough hours, if he missed this opportunity—Prompto slumped back as the breath rushed out in relief; his blurry vision cleared enough to read the tiny digits on the screen. He still had a good two hours before the interview.

Belatedly he realized his phone was still buzzing.

Swiping up, he swallowed another yawn. "h'alo?"

"Where are you?"

Noct. Voice controlled, each word precise and even. In other words, pissed off to the point of seething. Prompto had obviously screwed up. Again. Seemed about all he was capable of doing lately when it came to Noct—and just about everything else.

But for the life of him he couldn't recall _how_. Not this time.

That was also becoming more and more frequent. A functioning memory and reasonable amounts of sleep actually went hand in hand. Who knew?

“Prompto?”

Right, question. It honestly took a moment to find the answer.

"Um…home?"

The silence on the other end of the line was ominous. Then, "Are you just running really late or not bothering to come at all?"

That…hurt. But also, not unfair. Prompto had blown off Noct half a dozen times in the past few weeks, a combination of failing memory and strategic avoidance.

What had it been this time? The arcade, right. They'd made firm plans on Friday.

Prompto glanced at the time again. He was only…forty-five minutes late. Great. "Astrals, Noct. I'm—" What, sorry? An idiot? A complete walking disaster? Nothing seemed adequate. Thankfully, Noct cut off both the intended apology and his mental peanut gallery with a snort.

"Nevermind, whatever. Guess I'll just call Ignis to pick me up."

Prompto flinched, heart sinking. He recognized that tone. Though it was rarely if ever directed at him. Casual. Dismissive. It signaled Noct being _done._ With a topic, a conversation, an intrusion—Prompto felt his heart speed up. A friendship?

"I lost track of time. I was doing something for ah…my parents." Prompto blurted without really thinking, desperate for something— _anything_ , before Noct hung up. And it wasn't exactly a lie…doing well in school was a thing parents normally expected, right? Asked kids to do? Prompto couldn't recall anything specific, but surely it had been implied? And making sure their kids got enough sleep, wasn't that also a standard parental concern?

The quality of silence at the other end of the line changed. Prompto's feeling of victory was short-lived as his own guilt immediately turned the tables. His parents had been a sore spot between Prompto and Noct for a while now, one of very few. No doubt why his subconscious had jumped there, confident it could switch tracks if not outright derail Noct's train of thought.

Except that wasn't fair, because Noct had every reason to be pissed. Prompto was failing in friendship on just about every front. Except one. Because he was still managing to hold off asking.

But even that. Astrals, it was getting hard. The number of times he'd almost slipped up.

A small loan wouldn’t hurt, right? Just enough for one bill? Noct never hesitated when it came to even ridiculous amounts of money. And why _would_ he, after all? And Prompto could pay him back, double. Triple even.

Or…or maybe if Noct was willing to let him crash for a week or two. Then Prompto could let the water and electricity slide. Gas and internet had been some of the first to go. He'd tried without the water as well at first, but after two weeks, the realities of no working toilet or shower—-especially when job-hunting—had forced his hand.

Or maybe just having a sympathetic ear. Being able to hang out and unwind like they used to, without Prompto having to force a constant air of 'everything is _fine.'_ There’d be no harm in voicing a few worries, right, he could just mention—shit.

Prompto pulled out of the spiral barely in time to catch the words before they tumbled out. Clamped his jaw shut just to be sure. Astrals, waaay too close.

No, so much smarter—okay, easier—to simply avoid Noct. Better to tempt his ire than Prompto’s own plummeting self-control.

“Look…uh. I should probably finish what I’m doing. But…um, I’ll see you tomorrow? Just two more exams to go.” Prompto tried to inject a sliver of his usual cheer only to have it fizzle less than halfway through.

“Yeah…guess so. Later.”

"Bye—" But the call had already cut off.

Prompto tasted bile in his mouth. Tried to blame the nauseous swirl in his gut on his current diet of instant ramen and the occasional past-sell-by-date convenience store meals he got to take home after shift. Washed down by an endless river of coffee. It certainly wasn’t _helping—_ though getting hired tonight might—but even so, Prompto knew recent eating habits didn't fully explain the hollow feeling in his chest.

***

For going on one a.m. on a Wednesday night, this Crow's Nest was hopping, almost every booth full as Noct was led to his table.

Though with exams now behind them and less than two days until the start of Spring break, it wasn't a total surprise; most of the crowd were also students. Curfews always got lax around this time of year. For most people.

The slide in standards didn't apply to Noct. But he'd unilaterally decided to ignore that fact in favor of this not-exactly-sanctioned escapade tonight. Because it was fucking important and he was sick of waiting around trying to get permission while everything got more and more messed up.

The hostess gestured to his seat, but had yet to hand over the menu, peering quizzically into his face.

"You look familiar, do I know—"

"Nope," Noct grabbed the menu, hunching further into his hood as he dropped into the chair.

"Huh…could have sworn... Well, your waiter will be with you shortly." And then she was off before Noct could interject with the question he really wanted to ask.

A minute later a guy only a few years older than Noct wandered over, pad and pen in hand. "Know what yah want?" he drawled, gaze vacant and unmistakably stoned completely out of his gourd.

"Um…plate of fries?"

"Anything else?"

Noct hesitated. Took the plunge. "I was wondering if Prompto was working?"

When he'd overheard his classmates gossiping in the hall, the rumor they were sharing was of spotting Prompto at night, in what Noct was about eighty percent sure was this Crow's Nest. But having resisted jumping out from behind the stall door and grilling them directly, he couldn't be sure…

"The new guy? Yeah, think I saw him earlier, I'll see if he's still around."

Success. Or close enough. Noct'd take what he could get, watching closely as the waiter wandered back towards the kitchens. Only to be met close enough Noct could still easily overhear by the hostess and another waitress. Both staring right at Noct.

Hissed whispers of _"Prince"_ and _"Think you're right!"_ were unfortunately all too audible. Much, much too audible, if the way other heads were turning to glance about was any indication.

Noct slumped lower in his seat, head down.

His own waiter, unobservant or simply uncaring, answered with a loud, "I guess he could be, never met royalty before…" followed by an even louder, "Yo, Prompto, someone's here to see you!"

Noct winced. Okay, maybe this had not in fact been his smartest play. But what else was he supposed to do?!

Prompto had stopped answering his texts and calls. And was either avoiding him at school or just not coming at all. Noct had been sure it was the former at first but lately had a growing suspicion it was the latter, especially after the whispers started circulating about Prompto getting a job—a frowned-upon, though not outright forbidden, act of rebellion.

"You ask."

"No, you..."

The waitress and hostess had gotten closer. Click. Noct spotted a guy two booths over snapping a picture. Shit. Noct was a second from scrapping the whole plan when there was a thud from the seat across from him.

"What are you _doing here?"_

Prompto. In the flesh. Relief was temporary as the brusque tone and impatient glare registered. Noct may be happy to see Prompto but the same could not be said in reverse. Noct scrambled to regain his already shaky equilibrium. "Uh…I needed—was hoping—to talk to you."

Over Prompto's shoulder Noct could see Prompto's co-workers had halted their creep forward in favor of staring. Noct sighed. "Could we…can you step out for a sec?"

Prompto regarded Noct blankly for a beat before running a hand over his face, climbing back to his feet.

"Melinda, I'm taking my five," he called before indicating Noct should follow. Just a step behind, it was impossible to miss Prompto's tense shoulders, head bowed as if marching to his execution. With a minute flinch for every whispered remark or raised camera that followed them out.

Noct grimaced. So this was going splendidly. Just liked he'd planned. Only he hadn't really planned at all and that was turning out to be a lot more of a problem than Noct had anticipated.

Leading him out the back door, Prompto propped himself against the alley wall, arms crossed, posture closed.

His face was pale in the low light, the bags under his eyes, ever-present in the past month, a dark contrast.

It didn't take a mind reader to see something was wrong, had been for weeks now. What apparently _did_ take a psychic to know was what that something was, because Prompto sure the hells wasn't sharing. Noct had hinted, outright asked, offered to help, subtly and then not subtly and then all but demanding he had to be able to do something if Prompto would just clue him in.

It was like talking to a wall. Then a ghost, when deflection turned to complete absence.

"You wanted to talk, so talk. They don't like us taking long breaks so let's make this quick," Prompto grumbled.

Noct found his mouth suddenly dry. In the moment, all his strategies and well-formed arguments fled in the face of Prompto's hostility.

"Uh yeah. Sorry to...ah...bother you while you're working."

"Why are you here— _how_ are you here?" Prompto burst out before Noct could get any further.

How he had gotten here specifically or how had he found where Prompto was? Neither being questions Noct was in any mood to answer, he stuck with the 'why'.

"I'm here because you haven't been answering your phone and I haven't seen you in over a week."

"I've been busy."

"You've been skipping school!"

Prompto scoffed. "E _veryone_ skips this week."

"Not _everyone—"_ Noct certainly had no intention of, not after the debacle he and Prompto had gotten into when trying it last year. "And not _every_ day."

Prompto shrugged. "What's the point?"

It was true most of the teachers barely noticed, more than ready for their own few weeks off before tackling the new year. So, what _was_ Noct's point…beyond the _obvious_ 'if you were there we could see each other and chat and play games and act like, y'know. Friends. Because I fucking miss you'. Except the words lodged in his throat, unvoiced.

It wasn't until this moment he realized—was only just now coming to _accept_ —how one-sided that sentiment turned out to be.

"I mean…wouldn't it be better to not piss off all our teachers—"

"Why not, when I'm not coming back anyways."

Noct froze. "What does _that_ mean?"

Prompto took a deep breath, raised his head to meet Noct's questioning gaze with resolve. "Exactly what it sounds like. I'm not coming back for our third year."

"Wha—why in the Six _not?!"_ Noct had promised himself going in that he was going to keep calm, avoid going on the attack. But the wave of cold crashing over him also froze most rational thought.

Prompto sighed, dropped his eyes again. "Look, we both know I suck at school—"

"No we most certainly do not. You—"

"Bombed every test last week. Fails across the board."

"That…doesn't sound like you. I'm sure you could retake—"

Prompto shook his head. "No, look. University's obviously not in the cards. Why waste the time and money when I can be getting a head-start in the working world. I—"

"And your parents agreed to this?" Noct had yet to actually meet Prompto's parents but the fact that they decided somewhere along the lines to abandon Prompto to all but raise himself made them some of Noct least favorite people ever. Even so, if they could somehow stop this insanity, then—wait. "Shit, was this their idea? Are they _making_ you do this?"

Prompto shook his head again insistently. "No, nothing like that. We agreed…" But he didn't sound as confident as a moment before, gaze once more fixed on his feet.

Noct was clenching his fist so hard he was sure his nails were cutting his palms. "I'll kill them. Why can't they—"

"Noct!" Prompto yelped.

"Then tell me what I can do for you—"

"Nothing," Prompto whispered. "Seriously. I'm not asking, not looking for help. This is what I wa—what needs to happen. The withdrawal's already been sent to the school and everything."

Noct forced himself to take a deep breath, turned away before whipping back around. "Okay…but…a...a low-end restaurant? What about your photography? There's magazines, galleries. I’m sure I can pull a few strings, get you a gig at—"

"No!" Of all the 'no's so far tonight, that had the most finality to it, brokered no argument. Noct just stared, at a loss.

Prompto relented a moment later, but didn't back down. "Sorry. I appreciate the offer, I do. But…this is what I've decided. It's what's happening."

Noct opened his mouth, let it fall closed again at Prompto's beseeching look.

"Please, just…let it go?"

Noct knew it was none of his business, this was Prompto's rightful decision but…it hurt. That Prompto hadn't even wanted to discuss something so momentous with him.

Sure, Noct wasn't clear on a lot of the whole 'how to friend'…thing. Had been stumbling along haphazardly for the last two years. But…but he thought he'd been finally getting the hang of it. Guess he still had a lot to learn.

"Okay...okay. I won't push. But…we can still hang out, I mean you're not going to be working _all_ the time. And I…what?"

Prompto was giving him a funny look. As soon as he realized Noct had begun returning it, his eyes slid away again. Voice quiet, rough. "I…don't think that's a good idea."

Noct's stomach plunged. This whole conversation had been a rollercoaster, one with way too many hidden loops and inclines for his liking. But suddenly he felt as if he'd reached the top of the highest rise, only to look down and find the rest of the track suddenly _gone_. Just a gaping hole in the path they were expected to take.

"Why not?" Noct was amazed he managed to squeeze even that out.

"We're...gonna be going different directions, doing different stuff. It'll just be easier."

 _For who?_ Noct wanted to ask but his tongue had frozen along with everything else.

"And I mean, who really thought we'd be friends past high school anyway?" Noct, for one. But Prompto didn't pause long enough for him to voice it. "You're gonna be busy with all your Prince stuff and I'm gonna be…well, gonna be me." Prompo gave a mirthless laugh, deprecating. Noct thought he heard a hint of tears in it, recognized with a sinking feeling he was probably just projecting. "Just makes sense. Why prolong the inevitable?"

"I…see." He didn't see anything. He was blindsided, upended. Gotten everything all wrong…for maybe a while now. Maybe the whole time. "So...I guess that's…that's it?"

"Yeah…" Prompto brushed past, heading back inside, voice barely a whisper. "Guess it is."

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Gladio had been camped out on the sofa while Ignis puttered about the kitchen for a good four hours before Noct finally emerged.

Waking to security concerns and possible tabloid spottings of their wayward charge was not how Gladio had hoped to spend what appeared to be—viewed from inside the stuffy apartment—a lovely spring day. But here they were. Finding Noct safe and asleep where he should be had alleviated the initial panic but left a slew of questions instead.

After hours of waiting they could at last get some answers.

"Hey, sleeping beauty, good of you to finally join us."

"Fuck off." The slamming of the bathroom door was offered as harmony to the snarled response.

Ignis turned to meet his surprised look with a raised eyebrow. Even for morning-hating Noct—it was two long hours past anything resembling morning anyway—that was—

"Succinct," Ignis finished Gladio's thought aloud.

"Was thinking more along the lines of 'what crawled up his ass and died?' myself," Gladio drawled.

A second bang heralded Noct's return. And subsequent exit as he stomped right on past, heading straight back for his bedroom.

Gladio threw himself up and into his path. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Bed."

"Uh-uh. Not until you explain last night."

"The sun went down. It was dark, then the sun came up again. Good chance it'll do the same today."

Gladio grunted, done. "Cut the crap, Noct. You were seen in the Kokusai district at two in the Astrals damned morning. What in Ifrit's name did you think you were—"

Ignis's not-so-subtle throat clear cut him off. "I believe what Gladio is trying to ask is what inspired you to circumvent security and set off to one of the more dangerous parts of the city on your own in the middle of night?"

"Went to talk to Prompto. Won't ever happen again. We done here?"

The combination of coaxing and threats only netted them a few extra details before his royal sullenness retreated, bedroom door another victim to Noct's sudden need for percussive accompaniment.

"So...how much we think Noct's being his drama-queen self and how much we think Blondie actually said he never wants to see or speak to Noct ever again?"

Ignis pursed his lips, but remained silent, considering.

Gladio sighed. "Guess there's one way to find out."

***

The walk home had never felt longer. Somewhere along the route from the station, all his limbs had been replaced with lead and the ever-present headache spiked each time he passed under the bright street lamps.

Just one more block. The front porch only had a few stairs. Who needed to make it all the way up to the bedroom when the couch was right there. And then Prompto could sleep. Five hours of freedom to finally catch up loomed in front of him, the siren call of being horizontal beckoning him forward when all else failed.

Five whole hours he wouldn't have crowne signs dancing in his eyes and unpaid bills drowning every thought. Wouldn't have to think about how monumentally he'd set himself back tonight by getting fired from the movie theater. Couldn't even argue his manager's decision. He'd been fumbling things all week, and they'd remained surprisingly patient. But falling asleep in the ticket booth and allowing some asshole to steal an entire stack of free movie passes?

Yeah, he hadn't had a defense, just signed the employee discharge forms, accepted the loss of his last paycheck and left.

Maybe the diner would have more hours for him? Last two times he'd asked at the convenience store they'd said no, which was why he'd gone looking for a third gig to begin with.

Astrals, the thought of starting the whole job search process over yet again was enough to make him consider forgoing the final block and just lie down right in the street. With any luck, the next driver wouldn't be paying attention, put him out of his misery.

Except that driver might be someone he knew, he realized with a start as his driveway came into view, an idling black car taking up the entire space.

His parents. For one heart-stopping moment his thoughts soared, only for reality to pounce, dragging him back down to earth and tearing out a few feathers of hope in the process. Not his parents' car. And the two shadowy figures climbing out were a lot bigger than either his mom or dad.

He knew those silhouettes. Ignis and Gladio. Shit.

If he was lucky, they hadn't seen him. Just this morning he'd been ruminating on the last time he'd had time for a proper run. Now seemed an ideal time to start again. But as he prepared to turn tail and flee, an all-too-recognizable shout torpedoed any and all bids for a strategic retreat.

"Oi, Prompto, there you are."

No way he was outrunning Gladio; he was hard-pressed to do it when performing at peak. Right now? Prompto'd be caught in a dozen strides. Hitching his bag higher on his shoulder, he pushed to up his pace anyways, but towards rather than away. He had no wish to draw any of this out a second longer than it needed to be.

That was a mistake. He was fighting to control his breathing by the time he'd made it to the foot of his driveway, the annoyingly persistent sparkles dotting his vision most days exploding into full fireworks.

"Hey guys, what's up?" Please let it not be Noct…but of _course_ it would be Noct, if it was Gladio and Ignis coming to talk to him. Maybe if he was lucky they were just here to give him a piece of their minds.

Prompto might actually welcome that. Someone ought to tear him a new one for the crap he'd pulled on Noct. When it came to self-berating, Prompto knew he let himself off too easy. But he could count on Gladio and Ignis for both conviction and creativity when it came to defending Noct.

"Sorry to trouble you so late, you've been absent the other times we've dropped by. We were hoping we might talk with you about your…falling out with Noct."

There was little on Eos he'd rather talk less about. Noct's last look as he'd pushed past haunted the little sleep Prompto had been managing.

"Maybe we can take this inside," Gladio suggested.

"Um…Sure." And then lagging thoughts caught up with his too-eager tongue. He hadn't been able to cover the electricity bill two weeks ago; they'd cut power last Thursday. It was pitch black this time of night, street lights doing little more than offering a faint glow near the windows. Asking them to wait to start their dressing-down until after he'd lit some candles would be all kinds of awkward.

"Actually, I'd…rather do this out here."

And maybe if he was lucky the coolness of the night air would keep his head clear. Stranger things had happened.

Gladio huffed, but Ignis simply bent his head in acquiescence.

"After your…conversation, Noct returned noticeably upset. Offering little detail, he has continued to be withdrawn and uncommunicative for the past few days. We were—"

Prompto winced. He knew, _knew_ he'd handled it badly. But he'd thought, maybe if he did it quick, like ripping off a band-aid, it'd hurt less. Hurt _who_ less, he wasn't sure, because apparently he'd failed to spare Noct. As for himself, it'd felt closer to tearing off a limb. But a little hurt now would better than the hate later, right? The anger and betrayal when he realized Prompto misused their friendship.

Because that's what was going to happened. He'd reached his limit. The moment he'd seen Noct's all-too-distinct figure trying and failing to be inconspicuous, before Prompto had walked over to sit down, he'd known. Every second further in Noct's presence was a ticking time bomb, every word, every exchange, just one tock closer until he cracked.

He was going to break and going to _ask_. He was going to _need_ , and he was going to _take_ because hey, it'd just be the one time, right? Just one plea, just one favor. But one would lead to two and two to too many and all he'd be doing would be owing. So he'd removed the temptation the only way he knew how.

Failed even that. Because even now, the urge was welling up, to throw himself at Gladio and Ignis's feet and beg. He'd already fucked everything to hell with Noct, he doubted they could think less of him. They'd probably say no…but what if they said yes. That might be worse. If it got back to Noct, that Prompto'd used his friends instead? Noct, who kept his walls high, but fiercely defended those he let inside. He'd see it as an even worse betrayal.

Prompto clung to that reminder, the only thing keeping him off his knees. Barely.

He just wanted a little break. A chance to catch his breath. Wanted the mortgage to not be due on Friday with him still over five hundred shy. Wanted to take a shower—a hot one even, Astrals he missed warm showers—without panicking over the water bill. Wanted to not have to fill out more applications. He wanted the five hours of sleep that was rapidly dwindling to four not to be the rare overindulgence that it had become. Really wanted his parents to not be dead but after this long with no word—he knew the world was a dangerous place beyond the wall. Maybe this was the time it'd finally caught up with them? That gnawing dread had become an almost constant companion.

He just…he wanted Noct to still be his friend.

Prompto realized if this conversation lasted one more minute the dam that had held strong these past months would fail; the ensuing waterworks would be messy.

Wasn't like he'd been following it anyways. Words had become frictionless, sliding in one ear and out the other without the slightest drag. 

Gladio was speaking now, but when Ignis had stopped and he had begun, Prompto had no awareness.

"—never going to speak to him again?"

Would throwing up or breaking down into sobs be more productive? Because those seemed to be the only two responses coming to mind in answer to that request. It struck Prompto that he'd still been holding out some kind of dumb glimmer of hope that when he got this all straightened out, he could somehow get back on track with Noct, make it up to him.

That wasn't going to happen now obviously, and he had no one to blame but himself.

He swallowed, kept everything battened down, but just barely. "Never again," he promised, head down, unable to meet their eyes. Like the coward he was. "N-now if you excuse me, I'd...like you to leave." He didn't wait for their reply, just turned and fled into his dim house and dark thoughts.

****

"Shiva's tit, what was _that?_ " Galdio's rumble echoed through the silent car.

Ignis tapped the key against the steering column in thought before sticking it in the ignition. _That_ was a teenager about two stitches away from coming fully apart at the seams.

Though Ignis would have never called Prompto's style neat or proper, he maintained an air of artful dishevelment by design. Or had. Tonight there was nothing artful or designed about it. His hair hung limply, his shirt had been misbuttoned and untucked. He'd been all but swaying where he stood, and the pauses between the few questions he'd managed to answer had been long enough to verge into awkward. When Prompto'd gone to unlock his door at the end, his hands were shaking so badly he could barely get the key into the lock. He was a complete mess.

The question was _why_.

"Drugs?" Gladio sounded as skeptical as Ignis immediately felt. While it was true Prompto's appearance could definitely be described as strung out—it didn't mesh with everything else he'd come to know about Prompto.

But appearances could always be deceiving, as he knew all too well. Even so…

"I would be loath to speculate without more to go on."

They'd already talked to the school, confirmed his withdrawal. The Crow's Nest said he'd been an employee for less than a fortnight.

There wasn't a lot further they could dig without escalating into invasive territory.

Gladio grunted. "Really think he means it, never planning to see Noct again?"

Ignis sighed. "I'll admit, I had assumed Noct was being his more…dramatic self when he'd said that. But, that Prompto confirmed it..." Ignis shook his head. None of it made sense.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Gladio heaved a long breath. "Look, I know neither of us want to say it, even think it. But...is it possible Noct, y'know… _did_ something?"

The leather of the steering wheel squeaked against the grip of Ignis's gloves. "No." And it wasn't just out of loyalty. He _knew_ Noct, had watched him grow up. Watched him bury himself, build up his walls. Watched him still reach out, still try. His abundance of caution and of care.

Noct stumbled, not infrequently. But he always sought to put right whatever wrongs he could. To do anything at all along the lines he feared Gladio's thoughts were traveling in, even somehow inadvertently…no.

And unless every impression Ignis had of Prompto had been wrong, the boy had an incredibly forgiving nature. It was hard to imagine Prompto not waving aside anything but the most egregious of offenses. And even then. If anything, Prompto was _too_ forgiving. For his own good…and Noct's. Ignis wasn't the only one that let Noct get away with perhaps too much.

Whatever was going on, instinct told Ignis the problem didn't start with Noct. Or end with his absence.

"So if he really is cutting all ties, how much right do we have to interfere...if we haven't already gone too far?"

Gladio sounded uncomfortable. Unsure. Ignis shared his dilemma.

When it came to Noct, there was never any question: nothing could be too far. But if Noct was unconnected, uninvolved? It wasn't their place. And yet.

"I would feel...dissatisfied, leaving things so…unanswered."

"Mm…" Gladio agreed roughly, eyes fixed out the windshield on the dark house, not a single light shining out. Prompto must have headed straight up to bed. He'd certainly looked to need it. "No guarantee, that Noct won't get involved again."

Starting up the engine, Ignis hummed agreement. "Yes, quite right."

*****

After the first day, spent oscillating between sleeping and sitting dejectedly staring off into space, Noct decided the only thing to do was not think about it.

So he wasn't thinking about Prompto. Wasn't thinking about Prompto when he set the new record in Accordo Nights, bumping the aforementioned not-thought-about person finally, finally from first place. He wasn't thinking about Prompto when a commercial featuring chocobo chicks came on. He wasn't thinking about Prompto when Ignis happened to make peppery daggerquill rice.

He wasn't thinking about how great one of Prompto's evilly-timed meme's would be because Council Trevilos would _not_ stop talking and getting kicked out for laughing would be a blessing. He wasn't thinking about Prompto when he was flipping through a magazine and a photo of the royal gardens caught his eye. Prompto's angle had been superior.

By the third day into 'not' thinking about Prompt, Noct realized that his friend had managed to burrow so deep into every facet of his life that the only way to not think about Prompto was to not think at all.

So he gave that a try, but Gladio only let him get away with it for a few days before announcing if he was so determined not to think at least he could be productive about it.

Gladio wasn't wrong—dodging blades, racing lap after lap, sparring until he could barely see straight left little time for thought. 

Panting on the training room floor, various weapons strewn about and so tired he doubted he could even warp the arms' length forward it would take to smack the smirk off Gladio's face, Noct suddenly caught a glimpse of the clock.

Well past seven…no wonder he was starving. And it meant it'd been a good three hours since he'd last thought about Promp—shit.

Gladio must have seen his face fall from the way he sighed. "C'mon, hit the showers. Iggy's making oyakodon and then it's movie night."

The mention of food—one of his favorites, even—had Noct groaningly climbing to his feet.

Everything sucked…but Gladio and Ignis were still Gladio and Ignis. Everything sucked that little fraction less. 

Ignis was just scooping the rice into their bowls, Gladio cueing up the movie and Noct pouring drinks when Ignis's phone went off.

Glancing where it lay on the counter, he frowned, handing the rice paddle over to Noct while reaching to answer it.

Between the stove fan, the intro music on the TV and his own rattling about, Noct couldn’t make anything out on the other end of the line, only Ignis's replies.

"Speaking…I see…May I ask how serious?" His eyes were on Noct when Noct looked over, watching—only to glance away at Noct's questioning shrug. "Yes, thank you, I'll be there very shortly. Good evening."

Hanging up, Ignis untied his apron, dropped it onto chair as he passed. "Apologies, it seems I'll be missing dinner. Enjoy the—"

"Specs," Noct hastily placed the last bowl back on the counter to follow him down the entry hall. "Who was that? Where are you going?"

Ignis was already slipping on his shoes. "Small matter, but time sensitive. I'll be—"

"Ignis!" Noct couldn't say what it was exactly. The way Ignis wasn't quite meeting his eyes, the timing, some sixth sense. But he knew, he just did. "That was about Prompto, wasn't it? What's going on? Is he—"

Ignis reached for his jacket, only to grasp empty air as Noct grabbed it first, thrust it behind his back as a hostage for the truth.

Only to have it plucked from his grip by Gladio, who handed it back to its owner. "What's up?" 

Ignis sighed, slipped the coat on even as he conceded defeat. "That was a nurse at Insomnia General East. Prompto was brought in earlier after collapsing at work. As I apparently remain listed as his secondary emergency contact and they could not reach his parents—Noct, what are you doing?"

Noct didn't see why he was asking, thought it was perfectly obvious what with the way he was jamming his feet into shoes fast enough his toes protested. He ignored them.

"What the Astrals do you _think_ I'm doing?"

"Not sure that's the smartest idea—" Gladio began only for Noct to override him.

"Maybe not but it's what's happening. I _knew_ something was wrong, something serious. I've known for ages but did nothing. Just kept doing nothing and now he's in the hospital and his parents must be fucking MIA again if they're calling you, but when are they _not,_ and even if he doesn't want to see me…fine, he doesn't have to. But…but we still need to go… need to make sure he's really okay. Because…because…he can decide we're not friends all he wants but I never _agreed_ to it. So I'm not his friend anymore. Fine. But that doesn't stop _him_ from being _mine_."

Noct was panting by the end of it, chest heaving. Ignis was regarding him coolly, Gladio's brow was raised in surprise, but at least Noct had successfully found the mute button. Moved his glare on to Ignis.

"So are you driving or am I?" Sure, he didn't technically have his license yet, but he knew the basics well enough, he was confident he could make do if necessary. And there was always public transport…

Ignis, ever the wisest of them, knew when to pick his battle. Shoulders falling, he stepped aside to allow Noct to plow past, falling into pace behind. 

To Be Concluded…


	3. Chapter 3

"There you go now, easy does it."

A woman's voice. And not his mother's. Prompto went through his mental roster, much expanded in recent weeks with all the new coworkers and managers and regular customers, but he was drawing a blank.

"Can you open your eyes for me, honey?"

Yes. Maybe. No? The deceptively simple request proved anything but. And managing it did nothing but reveal a stranger's face, framed by an unfamiliar background.

“I know waking up in a hospital can be alarming, but it's gonna be okay, you're in good hands.”

Hospital?! How was anything to do with a hospital possibly okay?!

A monotone beeping in Prompto's periphery suddenly doubled its pace in perfect synchronization with his now thundering heart. He became aware of a cuff around his bicep, a monitor clipped to his finger. A pull on his other arm revealed an IV shunt in the crook of his arm.

And Prompto had thought this _morning_ had been bad. Overslept his alarm…again. Skipped breakfast--wasn't like the planned half-cup of instant noodles was much of a loss. Missed his train, arrived late and managed to drop an entire tray of drinks within the first half hour.

He'd thought his luck was finally turning around when he'd arrived at the convenience store and his manager ordered him into the back for inventory duty. At least doing that he got to sit occasionally. It had been slow going, the numbers swirling before his eyes, but he'd been making sporadic progress. Until he'd squatted to shift a crate of sodas, stood up and…nothing.

Complete blank until this woman's greeting. Said woman who was still leaning towards him, brightly colored scrubs and nametag suggesting she was hospital staff, doctor or nurse.

"So Mr. Argentum—is it alright if I call you Prompto?"

He nodded mechanically.

"I know you're probably feeling confused, maybe a little overwhelmed, that's perfectly normal." Her voice remained soft, steady. Which Prompto was sure was meant to be soothing—might have been in another circumstance. Prompto fought the urge to demand she get to the point. He had things to do, places to be—like anywhere but here. 

"You were found passed out at work. Your blood sugar levels were a little low so we've got you on a drip and should have that leveled out shortly. But we want to make sure nothing else is going on. No signs of injury were found with the initial examination, but are you experiencing pain anywhere?"

Unless a weeks-long persistent headache counted, nothing new. He shook his head.

"That's good. Now, your coworker told the EMTs that you'd seemed really tired recently, having trouble staying awake. How would you rate your sleep lately?"

"Fine." The occasional times he got any.

"Do you feel like you've been getting enough?"

Prompto didn't think breaking down into hysterical laughter was quite the answer she was looking for. Misinterpreting his choked-off silence, she went on, "I know these may seem like tedious questions, but we just want to rule out any underlying health concerns that may have contributed to your collapse."

Prompto was fairly sure a chronic case of completely and utterly broke did not a medical condition make. Nor was it something a hospital could treat. Just the opposite, in fact. Prompto felt his rapidly pounding pulse kick up another notch—the background audio confirming that perception.

How in the Six was he going to _pay_ for any of this? His parents' insurance shouldn't be affected by this whole thing, tied directly to their salary, but he knew a lot of procedures and services required a payment upfront, to be reimbursed later if qualified.

It shouldn't be all that much…but she'd mentioned EMTs, who knew what an ambulance ride cost? And even if the charges were small, he had exactly _nothing._ Every last available cent had gone to the mortgage yesterday.

"Your EKG was good, and we're still waiting on the bloodwork—"

EKG? Blood work? Prompto heard the imaginary cash register cha-chinging, a rising ringing in his ear.

He pushed himself to sitting. He was still in his clothes, thank Astrals, though his shoes were missing. He bent over to scan the floor for them, had to grab the bed's metal railing to keep from face-planting as the room swam.

The nurse swooped in to stabilize him, began to try to push him back. "Oopsy daisy, let's give the IV a little more time to do its work and you can—"

"Go," Prompto mumbled, swallowed. Forced his words past his sluggish rebelling tongue. "I gotta go."

"Ah, gotcha, the bathroom is right down the hall. Just let me grab a wheelchair—"

"No," he pushed her arm off. "I need to _leave_. Where are my shoes? I need to get back to work, I need to—"

"Okay, let's take a deep breath. Your guardian should be here soon, until then why don't we—"

Prompto froze. "You talked to my parents?" The vise in his chest momentarily loosened its grip for the first time in he didn't know how long.

The nurse frowned. "No, I don't believe so. I think the desk staff said it was a—" She glanced over at a nearby chart, "—Mr Scientia?"

The vise was back, tightened an extra turn for good measure. If Ignis had been contacted, that meant Noct could find out—-shit shit shit. His shoes were proving elusive, and having all these wires and cords to contend with wasn't helping.

The tearing of velcro as he released the pressure cuff had the nurse dropping her clipboard and scrambling forward. Even if Prompto's hands weren't trembling worse than a quaking aspen leaf, he would have been loathe to remove the needle on his own. But desperate times—

Thankfully the nurse correctly read his intent and chose to help rather than risk the damage he'd no doubt inflict on his arm or the equipment or both.

"Mr. Argentum, I'd really wish you'd reconsider. You're still not fully stabilized and it would be better if we could—"

"Do I need to sign anything?" She looked disappointed. Get in line. "To get out of here, is there anything I need to do?"

Pushing himself to his feet provided a whole new host of challenges as his vision desaturated, the room wobbled and if he didn't know for a fact his stomach was entirely empty—he'd worked through lunch and had planned to do dinner after his shift if there was anything expired enough to take home—he was pretty sure it would be now. He could taste the bile making a break for it.

Swallowed once…twice. Got his feet steady under him only by fixating on a point on the wall. Couldn't risk looking down again. Shoes were overrated anyways. He had spare pairs at home. Shoving back the privacy curtain, he took one rocky step and froze.

At the end of a long row of mostly empty gurneys, he had an all-too-clear view of Noct leaning over the nurses' station, gesturing animatedly. Ignis and Gladio were at his shoulders.

Prompto became a statue. Invisible if they didn't sense motion, that was totally how this worked, right? Maybe there was an emergency exit, a door, any possible avenue of escape.

"Mr. Argentum, your shoes." The nurse's voice calling from behind broke the spell. Down the hall, three sets of eyes snapped to him. Prompto managed to avoid directly meeting any of them, turning to grab at the proffered footwear, slid one socked foot then the other past the still-done-up laces.

Too slow. Noct was already closing in on him as he finished. "Prompto! Are you okay, what happened? Do you—"

Prompto took a deep breath, fought to keep his voice steady. "I'm fine, it's nothing. They shouldn’t have bothered you." He inclined his head towards Ignis who'd arrived a step behind Noct. "I'm sorry for not removing you from my contact info." That'd happened so long ago, soon after they started spending regular amounts of time together; a safeguard for Noct more than anything else, in case something befell them both while hanging around at Prompto's. It had entirely slipped his mind.

"Prompto…" Noct sounded aggrieved.

Prompto couldn't do this, not here, not now. Preferably not ever. "Discharge procedure?" he addressed his nurse, kept his eyes anywhere but on Noct.

She sighed. "We really wish you'd reconsider. But, if you insist, just give your name and insurance information at the desk in the lobby."

Prompto nodded his thanks, made to push past the three looming obstacles blocking his path.

Noct was having none of it. "What?! No…you look terrible. He still looks terrible. " Noct had turned his focus to the nurse as well. "You can't just let him go!"

"Unfortunately, while this is strongly against our advice, patients here are not prisoners."

"But!"

There was a cough behind them, one of the other nurses from the desk come to join the fray. "Many apologies, your highness, we understand your frustration, but we do have very strict policies in place. But, perhaps we can—"

Prompto watched his nurse's eyes go wide, flicking to Noct in delayed recognition. She looked flustered; both the staff did. Prompto usually found it hilarious, that almost universal response in the face of royalty.

Now he was just grateful for the distraction, slipping past the lot of them in the midst of the fawning. Thankfully the elevator bank was close. He finger throbbed from stabbing so swiftly at the down button. He practically threw himself inside as the doors dinged open, narrowly avoiding barreling into a surprised doctor who he stepped around.

The delay to dodge cost him. Noct slammed into the elevator just as the doors began to close, cutting off the view of Ignis and Gladio still in discussion with the nurses.

"Prompto, please, just talk to me. You're in a _hospital,_ for Astrals' sake!"

"Not for much longer," Prompto ground out. Fixed his gaze forward. The glare of the lights glinting off polished chrome dazzled his already blurring vision. The jolt of vertigo as they began to descend staggered him enough to put a steadying hand against the wall.

"Prompto…" The plaintive tone was accompanied by the brush of fingers at his elbow. Prompto drew away, breathed a sigh of relief at the welcoming slide of the doors. Couldn't exit fast enough.

Locating the indicated desk was easy, and for once luck was on his side. No line. He thought Noct said something more, but Prompto found it easy to tune out. It was taking all his concentration just to keep placing one foot in front of the other at this point.

Fumbling out his wallet, he handed over his insurance card to the man waiting at the desk, confirmed his name and date of birth. It felt like an eternity, more like a minute, for the man to bring up the relevant documents and print them out.

Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of Noct hovering just a few steps off to the side, of Gladio coming to join him. Ignis was still absent. Probably getting every detail he could from Prompto's doctors. Joy. Nothing to be done for it now.

"Method of payment?"

Prompto felt the breath rush out of him. Blinked down at the receipt. Sixty-eight crowne. A pittance. But a pittance he couldn't afford. It was a good deal less than he'd feared, but that didn't change the fact he didn't have enough.

His wallet held a single 10 note that he'd been holding onto for the train pass about to expire. Two debit cards. One that had been intended only for emergencies, but as it tied directly to the locked account, it was more of a trap than a backup. The other was his own account, already overdrawn. To the max, he believed, but maybe…maybe he'd miscalculated. Math had never been his best subject even before he'd started massing massive amounts of sleep debt.

The man tapped the counter, beginning to look impatient.

With shaking fingers Prompto withdrew the latter card. "Debit," he managed to croak. The receptionist plucked it from his fingers with hardly a glance, swiped. Frowned. Swiped a second time.

"I'm sorry, this card has been declined."

"Oh." Swallowing, Prompto handed over the other card. Sometime in the last six hours, the account _could_ have been miraculously restored. 

From the receptionist's expression at the shrill double beep, Prompto was thinking not.

"Do you have another form of payment?"

Prompto shook his head mutely. Bit his lip. Felt, to his horror, the all-too-distinct feeling of wet building at the corners of his eyes. He fought back with all he had, doubting they'd accept salt water as a cash alternative. Sounds behind him indicated neither Noct or Gladio had left, present to observe every excruciating moment.

Was just curling up and dying on the spot a viable option? Because it was starting to seem like a good one—the only one.

A grip on his shoulder made him jump. Security already here to haul him off? Belatedly he recognized the tattooed arm attached to the hand as Gladio's. "I've got it," he murmured before giving Prompto a little push.

Towards the hovering Noct. "Why don't you head down to the car while I settle things here. Ignis shouldn't be too much longer either," he instructed his charge even as he leaned over the counter.

Noct's hand was around Prompto's wrist, tugging. But loosely, enough Prompto could break free with no trouble. He let himself be led away instead.

What would be the point in resisting now? Friendship flunked, completely and utterly. Lower score than his very worst school test, and he didn't think you could score below a zero, but he'd managed it all the same. Let down his teachers, his parents, Ignis. Gladio. Let down Noct.

It was probably too late now, but the pawn shop should be open tomorrow. First thing, he'd head over. He'd already sold the camera, still new enough to get a decent bargain. His phone hadn't been though, the guy wouldn't even take it. He wasn't sure what else he had lying around the house that wasn't his parents'. But…there had to be something. Enough to pay Gladio back. Less than seventy. He _had_ to be able to do that much. The computer was too old. Did he have any collectible toys? He wouldn't be getting a paycheck till next week, but surely, somehow? Maybe if he—

"Prompto! I know I'm like your least favorite person in the world right now but can you do me a favor anyways and just _breathe_."

Prompto blinked. He wasn't breathing? Huh…maybe that explained the giant gray patches eating away at his vision. Through which he could hazily make out Noct frowning, face so close to his it was hard to bring individual features fully into focus.

Noct, least favorite? Prompto would have laughed if his lungs were not otherwise engaged and didn't seem interested in obeying him anytime soon.

"Prompto? C'mon, c'mon, please…" Noct was glancing wildly around, looked half ready to stand…to go get help.

Nononoo. They'd put nowhere near enough distance between them and the over-eager hospital staff. He could do this, it was just breathing, right? He'd managed to suck at just about everything imaginable at this point, but even babies could breathe.

"N-noct," Prompto managed to wheeze, clamping hard onto his wrist. Relieved when all of Noct's focus immediately shot back to him.

"That's it, that's it, there you go." Noct was all but babbling. "Right here, not going anywhere."

This time Prompto really did laugh, a small chuckle. How could that be so ridiculously comforting when he'd been doing everything in his power to get away from Noct for far too long now? Surprisingly, it did the trick, broke his rapid panting enough for Prompto to regain a sliver of control.

He let his head fall back, felt the dull echo as it collide with a hard surface. His gaze drifted past Noct to take in their surroundings, a mostly empty parking garage. He was on his butt, knees drawn up, back pressed firm against a concrete pillar. He thought he spotted Ignis's car a few spaces down.

Drawing another breath, ragged but measured, he turned back to Noct. Who was frowning down. Prompto followed the line of his gaze, to a spot on Prompto's chest.

"You changed jobs?"

"No…?" It took a moment for Prompto to parse the seeming non-sequitur. Not his chest, but the Friendmart logo emblazoned across it.

"Then how many do you _have_?"

Prompto shrugged. "Just the two now. Though after tonight…one, probably." Prompto waited for the alarm to return, found he didn't have the energy for even that anymore. He felt empty, drained to the last drop. One job or three, it hadn't made a difference, hadn't been enough.

"Wait, has this just been about _money_?" Noct sounded confused.

Prompto laughed again, closer to a giggle, bordering on manic. "—just money—"

"Prompto!" Noct looked like he was bracing to search for help again.

Prompto smothered his chuckle, hoped he succeeded in concealing the hysteria he could feel still simmering all too close to the surface as he met Noct's gaze.

Noct stared a moment longer before he dropped his arms from where they'd been bracketing Prompto's shoulders, rubbed a hand tiredly over he's face. "Please, Prompto, _please._ Just _talk_ to me."

Prompto sighed, blinked slowly up at the flickering fluorescent above. Resignation swept over him. He wasn't strong enough after all. He'd tried and tried and tried and failed. So he began to talk instead.

******

"How long?" Noct wanted to punch something. Repeatedly. How much would pavement _really_ damage his hand? He also kind of wanted to cry.

Prompto's eyes had drifted shut while he talked. He sounded tired. He _looked_ —'tired' didn't begin to cover it. When Noct had first spotted him, upright and ambulatory, he'd felt nothing but overwhelming relief. But the dread he'd felt since Ignis had first received the call was all too quick to return. 

Watching Prompto staring at the receptionist, clearly a second away from tears, had wrung Noct's heart like a dishrag. He'd been halfway to the counter before Gladio overtook him. Having Prompto crumple to his knees well on his way to a full-blown panic attack in the middle of the parking garage left Noct reeling.

When Prompto finally, _finally_ spoke, the anxiety had slowly ebbed, to be replaced by a gut-churning mixture of guilt, confusion and fury.

Noct nudged Prompto's shoulder where he sat pressed next to him. "Prompto, how long?"

"Hm? Dunno, eight…no, I guess nine weeks since I realized. Think a while before that, with how many bills had already been overdue."

Two months. _Over_ two months. That'd he'd been working himself into the ground. Almost double past the first time Noct had noticed something off. Some friend he'd been.

"And you haven't heard from your parents at all, the entire time?"

The small head rocking Noct took to be a no. Were those tears gathering at the corners of his closed eyes again? Shit.

Noct was really wishing he'd been able to get them all the way to the car. At least the seats were padded. And it would shelter them from the intermittent breeze that came blowing down the aisles. Not that any physical discomfort seemed to be stopping Prompto from falling asleep where he was.

And no wonder, with the kind of hours he'd apparently been keeping. On top of one stressor after another. The real question was how he hadn't collapsed weeks ago.

If he'd said something. Said _anything_! If he'd just come to Noct when it all began. Or the hundreds of opportunities since. Noct may have been late off the mark, but he'd still tried. Offered and asked again and again. The unfairness of it bubbled up and out before he could stop himself.

"So…quitting school, working insane hours, skipping meals _,_ all those were preferable than just _asking_ _me_ _for help?_ " Prompto groaned, gave another of the not-quite headshakes. 

"What, did you think I'd say no?"

_That_ did get his attention, a flash of blue as Prompto's eyes shot open to glance to Noct.

"Of course not! That…that would have been preferable, if I could have ever believed it."

Prompto knew him that well at least. Feeling vaguely mollified but more bewildered than ever, Noct couldn't suppress the growl. "Then _why_?"

Prompto kept shaking his head. "I can't just go to you for help."

"Don't see why not _._ "

Prompto sighed. "It's not that simple."

"It _is,_ in fact, that simple. You go, 'Noct, I need help.' And I go, ' _Whatever you need_!'"

Prompto scrunched his face, hand rising to tug at a lock of hair. Noct recognized it for one of Prompto's more obvious tells of frustration. Well, good, that made two of them.

"You don't understand—"

"—obviously—"

"Noct…you _have_ to know, with your position, who you are. _Everyone_ wants things from you, _expects_ things from you. But not me, I'm not doing that to you, that's not what _friends_ do."

Noct wondered what he was missing.

"I want things from you."

Prompto started. "What?"

"I expect things from you. That makes me a bad friend?"

"Of course not. Also, you don't."

"I want you to spend time with me. Came to expect it, even. I expect you to keep allowing me to re-challenge you at games no matter how terribly I lose. I want you to study with me, and expect you to tell me when I'm being a complete idiot. I want you to cheer me up when I'm having a bad day, as you pretty much never fail to do. And I expect you to _tell me_ when you need me to do the same!"

Prompto was shaking his head harder and harder. "No, that's…you're missing the point."

"Am I?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"Those are just small things"

"They're pretty big to me."

"It's not the same. When it comes to things like m-money and…and people's perceptions—"

"Those will never, _never_ matter to me as much as a single one of the things I named."

Noct's gaze was locked on Prompto, who returned the glare with a look of pure exasperation.

"I made a _promise_."

"Ah." The soft exclamation was the first indication there was anyone besides the two of them around. Craning his head, he spotted Ignis and Gladio only a few paces behind the pillar. Noct had no clue how long they'd been their; judging from Prompto's surprised look, he didn't either.

"Prompto," it was only Noct's long familiarity with his advisor that allowed him to detect the awkwardness—guilt even--in his calm expression as Ignis lowered himself to his knees on Prompto's other side. "When you made that promise, I in no way intended—"

" _What_ promise?" Because this was the first Noct was hearing of it. Ignis and Prompto both ignored him, the latter grimacing.

"I didn't do it because of that. I mean, _yes_ , what I promised then does still hold. But more than that. I know why you had me make it. Experienced it firsthand more than enough times. The number of other students that would approach me, thinking I had an 'in" with Noct, hoping they could get something out of it. A teacher once, even."

Noct felt like he'd been slapped. "What, _when_? You never said."

Neither Ignis nor Gladio looked at all surprised by this admission. Prompto just rolled his eyes. "Of course I wasn't going to. You have to deal with that shit way too much as is, if I could nip in the bud even a fraction of before it got to you, of course I had to try. And no way I was going to contribute to that problem. Ever."

"You realize there's a big fucking difference to cozying up to me seeking some random favor and turning to a friend in a time of need, right?"

"I don't get to make that call."

Noct was going to strangle Prompto. Or himself. Or there was always this nice convenient concrete he could slam his own head against and put himself out of this misery.

"When we're best friends, when you've put up with the amount of shit from me that you do on a regular basis. When you've jumped through every Six-damned hoop that my fucking 'position' has made you jump through. When your only other option is to push yourself to the point of _collapse_ , than yes, yes you sure as hells _do._ Or at least you give _me_ the option to. _"_

"If I said anything, I knew you'd feel obliged. I'm not gonna just use that, use our friendship like that…" But for the first time since the start of this Prompto had the decency to look doubting.

"So, just to be clear, you thought _ending_ our friendship entirely was better than to even chance misusing it?"

"Um…yes?" The tears that had been threatening Prompto earlier were back.

Join the club.

It wasn't like Noct had been completely unware of it. That Prompto avoided letting Noct pay for just about anything. That getting him to accept gifts, even small ones, any other time than his birthday was near impossible. At first it had been a relief, a reassurance that Prompto didn't look at him with money signs in his eyes or ambition in his thoughts.

But he'd taken for granted they'd grown past that. Ages ago.

Noct looked around, meeting first Gladio's bemused look, Ignis' speculative one. None of them seemed to get it.

"What you don't seem to realize, _any_ of you," he looked at each of them in turn, "is that I'm not some precious figurine that will shatter if looked at funny. Have I had a giant target on my back since the day I was born? Of course. Have I been burned before? Yes. Does it suck? Obviously. Would I rather go through it a hundred times than put my best fucking friend through something like this? What the fuck do you think?!"

Gladio looked uncomfortable, Ignis alarmed. And Prompto…was crying. Not noticeably, just a silent trickle of tears accompanied by a quiet litany of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I fucked up, I’m—"

Noct could've kick himself. Instead he'd gone for kicking Prompto while he was down. So, so far down. This was why Noct usually left words to other people.

Leaning over, he hauled Prompto in close. Prompto went rigid for a moment, shuddering. Then he was boneless, sagging into the hug, hands burrowing to clench at Noct's hoodie.

"Please," Noct whispered into his hair. "Please, Prom, just let me help."

After a moment, a lifetime, Noct felt the minute shift of Prompto's head, his murmured acquiescence.

Noct wasn't sure how long had passed—the leg over which Prompto sprawled had gone numb-- when Gladio finally grunted, "What'd ya say to continuing this somewhere else?"

Noct nodded, went to pull back only to register Prompto's complete limpness. "I…think he's asleep."

Please just asleep and not worse. That they were sitting in the basement of a _hospital_ , the hospital that Prompto had been brought to because he'd keeled over only hours before, had not escaped Noct. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Ignis pushed back to his feet. "While Prompto left before they could complete a full examination, from what tests and bloodwork they _had_ finished, it was the doctor's opinion Prompto is suffering from a combination of dehydration, low blood sugar and extreme exhaustion. Everything we overheard of your conversation tracks with that."

Prompto's face was mostly hidden from view, tucked in tight against the crook of Noct's neck. Didn't keep Noct from staring anxiously. "So…"

"So with some fluids, some food and an Astral's ton of rest, should be as good as new." Gladio had replaced Ignis, reached out to ease an arm around Prompto's shoulders, the other under his knees. "But we'll keep a close eye for the next few days, just to be sure."

Noct had to command his fingers to unlock, let go. Even so, as Gladio hoisted Prompto up, limbs akimbo, head lolling to rest against Gladio's shoulder, Noct found one hand still subconsciously gripping Prompto's, unable to fully forgo contact.

From hospital to home, all the way to tucking him into bed, Prompto never twitched, dead to the world.

******

Prompto awoke with his mouth tasting like cotton. He groaned, blinked his eyes open to a glass being thrust into view.

"Here, drink." He did, and gratefully.

Noct's room, and Noct's hand reaching out to take the now-empty glass. His last memory was his complete breakdown in the parking garage. He was really getting sick of waking up in locations different from where he'd closed his eyes.

But the familiar curtains, the usual barely contained mess and Noct's relieved face were all an infinite improvements to hospital beds and strange nurses.

"How you feeling?"

Prompto stretched, considered. His thoughts were flowing slower than cool molasses but for the first time in forever, he didn't feel the all-encompassing need to simply shut his eyes; every fiber of his being didn't long to remain horizontal for just a few seconds more.

"...better? How long have I been—" His jaw cracked in a yawn, "out?"

Noct glanced at the clock, "Just shy of seventeen hours."

Prompto gaped. "Wait, what?!"

"Yeah, we tried to wake you about six hours ago to get some food in you, but no dice. Got you to drink a little water but don't think you were ever fully awake. Specs is making dinner now though, so thought we'd give it another try."

In an attempt that resulted mostly in uncoordinated flailing, Prompto made to sit up, shove the covers back. "Seventeen?! I...gotta, what about my shift, I need to—"

"Whoa." Noct was looking at lot less relieved this time as he shoved Prompto back down. "No work today. No work for the foreseeable future-"

"-but I have to-"

"-it's been handled."

That pronouncement, however vague, held a note of finality to it. "All outstanding bills have been paid and all work informed about sick leave."

Noct lifted a hand for silence before Prompto could choke out the first syllable. "You—and by that I mean your _parents_ and only your parents—can pay me back at a later date if needed. And on that front, Gladio thinks he's got a good lead—he and Ignis had already started looking into their whereabouts a few days ago apparently." Noct paused, looked away. "They didn't tell me they'd gone to talk to you."

Prompto couldn't say for the life of him if Noct was more upset it had happened or that no one had told him. Noct pushed on before Prompto could slip a word in.

"Anyways, there's been some crazy storms out in the Vestapool area, where reports say they'd been heading, knocked out communication and transport for a lot of the region for over a month now. Things are only just getting back on track. With feelers out, we're confident we should be in contact any day."

The news about his parents lifted a weight that had been boring down, grinding into Prompto deeper with every passing day. The heady relief stole his breath enough for Noct to continue uninterrupted, "But until we know more, the main thing—the _only_ thing— you need to worry about is getting some real rest."

Prompto had been trying to let Noct have his full say—he owed him that much. And so much more. But even so, he couldn't hold back the squawk of indignation. "In what world is seventeen hours _not_ real rest?!"

"The world in which you've apparently been averaging at _most,_ three hours a night, on a _good_ night, for weeks and weeks!"

Prompto clapped his mouth shut. Memories of yesterday's confession came only through the gauzy curtain of a sleep-deprived fog, but he was almost positive he'd left out the exact extent of his folly.

Noct was nodding. "Yeah, see, since it was Specs doing the phoning to notify your jobs of your coming absences, he also thought to ask exactly what kind of hours you'd been putting in. Wound up talking to the movie theater too— _three_ jobs for a time, Prom, seriously?!--And despite our mutual loathing of most things mathematical, I can in fact do simple addition and subtraction and know that you were working way, waaay too much and sleeping waaay too little."

Prompto felt his shoulders droop, shrugged. "Didn't have a lot of choice."

Noct growled. Prompto flinched. "Correct choices. _Acceptable_ choices—" Prompto threw his hands up in defeat at Noct's continued glare. "Okay, I made stupid choices, I fucked up completely, is that what you want me to say?"

Noct sighed before dropping down next to Prompto on the bed, bumping shoulders. "No. I want you to say you'll come to me next time you're in trouble. I want you to say you'll let us keep helping this time. I want you to know you don't have to go through shit like this alone."

Prompto couldn't meet Noct's eyes. Couldn't work out the catch…there had to be one. It couldn't be that easy. Right?

Noct gave another little jostle. "Hey, how many people would you say I have _constantly_ looking after me, looking out for me. Gladio, Ignis, my dad, Clarus, Cor, more Crownsguards than I can shake a stick at. Even you. Cause that's what this was about, right? You not wanting to hurt me, wanting to protect me?"

Prompto grunted acknowledgement, face buried against his blanketed knees. 

Noct pressed closer. "So why shouldn't anyone look after you? Why don't we get to return the favor?"

Prompto opened his mouth.

"And don't even think of anything alluding to me being the Prince. Not this time."

Closed it again.

"Or do you only care about me _because_ I'm the Prince?"

"What?!" Prompto yelped, shooting upright. "Of course not. Dude, you're my _best_ _friend,_ of course I'm going to do everything in my power to—"

Noct snorted, crossed his arms and 'tutted' in victory. Prompto groaned, flopped forward to once more cradle his head on his knees.

"Okay, fine, I concede. I thought we already agreed I'm an idiot."

Prompto felt a pat on his back. "An idiot with friends, though. Friends ready to help, who want to help. Friends who are really really hoping you'll stop being an idiot and let them."

"I already admitted defeat, now you're just going for overkill."

The smile in Noct's voice was obvious. "Maybe a little. Want to make sure the message is unmissable."

"Received loud and clear. Though, in my defense, as we've already clearly established, I've been operating on sleep-deprived brain for ages now. That's gotta count for something in the logic-impaired decision-making process."

"Mn, definitely." The agreement was muffled as Noct had come to lean full force on Prompto's back, face mashed against Prompto's shirt.

"Are you…taking a _nap_?"

Prompto could feel the nod.

"Haven't been sleeping well lately," Noct slurred.

Prompto stilled. "Sorry." Was cut off from going further by Noct's arms snaking around him, nestling in closer.

"S'fine now. Make it up to me by being a pillow."

Prompto laughed. "Can probably find something more comfortable."

"Eh, worked well enough last night. Apparently you become an octopus in your sleep."

"Who's the octopus now?" Prompto teased, feeling steady enough to do so for the first time in he didn't know how long. 

"Eh, best sleep I've had in ages, why rock the boat?"

When he put it that way…who was Prompto to argue.

They were both dozing by the time Gladio came to drag them off to dinner.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for such lovely comments, it's crazy inspiring! I keep thinking I'm moving on from FFXV and then Prompto pops up going 'oh no, there's still terrible things you can do to me'. I've been torn, I mean, how much can I do before it starts getting boring and/or repetitive? But so far, you've stuck with me, and thus poor Prompto must continue to suffer (while you all continue to rock ^__^)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my wonderful beta and more wonderful sister, Xparrot. 
> 
> Feel free to join me on [Tumblr](https://gnine2.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/Gnine2), for whatever randomness there is to be had, always love the company.


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